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New Polyhex Mess
Log Title: New Polyhex Mess Characters: '' Banshee, Miasma, Mixmaster, (Other Constructicons), Goth, Khamsin, Lugnut ''Location: Altihex Date: ''1/26/2020 ''TP: None-TP Summary: Deathsaurus shows people around the New, New Polyhex, and a mess ensues that almost ends with Khamsin getting attacked by Lugnut. As logged by: Goth New Polyhex New Polyhex is one of the oldest city states in the Decepticon empire, serving over time as the one time seat of power for the Decepticon empire, once ruled by the infamous Lord Straxus and then for millions of years by Shockwave when he was guardian of Cybertron and the Decepticon empire, only recently granted to their new governor Deathsaurus and his Destron empire. At one time, Polyhex was also the central communications and intelligence center, serving as the optics and audials of the empire, as a connector to a vast satellite network tied into Decepticon ruled Cybertron's central network hub. The Destrons have had New Polyhex under a constant rebuilding and renewal project. There is a central checkpoint, where armed guards make sure no one is carrying weapons that doesn't need to have them in the city. The central fortress of Darkmount rises over the city like a watchful protector, it's purple spires cutting into the sky, reminding it's citizens and visitors of the oppressive Decepticon presence. The city contains several districts including the newly rejuvinated Dead End to the North and the Dregs bordering Protihex to the east. Under Destron rule, the smelting pits have been re opened and are back in use, giving the southern horizon an eerie orange red glow. <> Mixmaster says, "Clear the 340 road. Production coming through!" Deathsaurus is here for the opening ceremonies of new polyhex, which is ready for business at this point. "Greetings, Autobots, Decepticons and neutrals alike. New Polyhex is now open for general repopulance by any who wish to take part in the revitilization projects here." he says, standing by the checkpoints and the factories. "As you can tell it will be a heavily industrial city, true to its roots of science and logic." he says. "The constructicons have done a fantastic job in rebuilding what will be a jewel in Cybertron's crown. If you have any questions, feel free to ask." <> Mixmaster says, "Whoa, the thing is going on?" <> Mixmaster says, "back it up, back up!" <> Deathsaurus says, "Its not formal but yes. I am showing the city to newcommers. Clear the roads." <> Deathsaurus says, "I mentioned your team as instrumental to new Polyhex's growth" Mixmaster sends a radio transmission. <> Mixmaster says, "See that, Scrapper? Deszarus knows where his untonium is smelted. Heh." Miasma tends to follow Deathsaurus' lead. He's generally approved of her, and she is impressionable, as it stands. Currently she seems to be paying attention, so her eye is green currently. She's playing it very cool and calculated as she watches Dezsarus deliver his opening speech. To get a proper chemical plant, she'd listen to about anything. Green fog is expelled from her mask as she breathes noisily. Goth was nearby in full view, with his new wings folded around him like a cape, keeping as straight a face as he could as he kept behind Deathsaurus, like the advisor he'd been acting as. He would glancing around time and time again to look over the crowd to see whom had shown up. Indeed Neutrals... or, at least one. Khamsin has made his way into the gathered group of onlookers tto see the revival of Polyhex. Arms clasped behind his back, he just listens to the speech from Des, ears upright and earnestly attentative as his eyes scan the area and study the city. The doors to the Heavy Factory groan again, and Mixmaster can be seen physically shutting them from the inside. Deathsaurus sends a radio transmission. Deathsaurus motions to the factory. "The factory there makes Maurauders, eight legged tanks that will serve for the city's defenses. If you'll follow me, I wish to show you what most people are interested in. During Lord Straxus and Shockwaves rules. what is the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of Polyhex?" Mixmaster sends a radio transmission. Scrapper, and the entire Constructicon team fly low and slow towards Deathsaurus' position, and land in a neat row off to one side. Construction pistols were holstered, after all good praise for good work is a rarity among the Decepticons. Deathsaurus sends a radio transmission. Deathsaurus looks to Scrapper. "Here are the master builders now. Unlike Crystal City, I will give them their due. There will be a parade in thir honor, once the city is fully operational." He waits for answers, to see what people expect out of Polyhex. They are here so they must support it somehow. Miasma considers the question. What IS Polyhex known for? She's not even a year old, but some of the history of the city was known. She raises her head, "The corruption of Polyhex by Galvatron and outside forces, forcing a reformat of the city." Khamsin flicks his ear lightly as he listens, a touch of a smirk showing on his face before he hides the expression and, just like that, is back to a straight-faced look, brief glances given as the various mentions of tanks and such are made, and again as he hears the Constructicons introduced... at the mention of what Polyhex was known for, though, he just remains tightlipped and quiet. Goth would spot Khamsin and his ears would perk up, but not much else, he was going to need to keep an optic on him as.. well, he didn't think the other Decepticons would really behave themselves.. He'd nod to the Constructicons, in greeting before huffing out and clearing his voice box, giving Miasma a nod, she wasn't wrong but! He knew the answer. "The smelting pools?" He'd ask cooly, putting a hand on his chassis. Deathsaurus nods "Corruption, smelting pools, and domination." He says lowly. "That.. is about to change." He walks to the east. "Does anyone remember.. the Dead End? Where empties would go to wait to be tossed in the smelter. Whatt you're about to see...will change all of that." Dead End - Polyhex Miasma concedes, "The smelting pools /are/ rather nice...." The Dead End was once home to the "Empties" that roamed the back alleys and streets, but after Polyhex's revitalization program began, the area is taking on a urbane, but clean and safe vibe that is po[pular with the growing young and artistic youth, with specialty engex "breweries" and storefronts selling anything from flashy new paint jobs and elite rebuilds to "seedy" looking bars that are perfectly safe under New Polyhex's Destron protection and store fronts for weapons trade and illicit trades are just out of sight, also in the optic of the local authroities. This city presents the appearance of a rough "Decepticon" city, but most of the true hard livers have been moved to the dregs just outisde of New Polyhex itself. Khamsin nods lightly. The listed things about the city's old traits are...agreeable, at least, and he shuffles along as the group moves towards the Dead End, pausing to sniff lightly at the air almost reflexively, pausing to peruse the shops lining the street. Banshee looks around as she steps inside. "Interestink.." Deathsaurus nods "As you can see there's new life to the place as well. Theres a new bar catering to the younger crowd as well as a brand new hospital I can show." he smiles at Miasma. "But there is interest in the Smelting pools. If you'll follow me back around, I can show you what they've become and what I did with the area around it." Goth is walking slightly behind Deathsaurus as if an equal, he's not really thinking about it, but he's keeping quiet and letting Des explain, nodding to the Destron, as if to tell him he's doing okay... He's also keeping an optic and ear on Khamsin, not wanting the neutral mech to be attacked.... Ick the fire pools.. why.. Miasma breathes out more green mist. Her eye suddenly spins and changes to red. A cackle bursts out of her as Deathsaurus mentions smelting pits, and the laugh carries. Smelting Pool - Polyhex - Equatorial Cybertron Khamsin just...sort of peers at Miasma at the laughing when smelting pools are mentioned, but little else otherwise. It's...attention-grabbing, though, that's for certain. But then attention shifts to the pools themselves... or, rather, everything around them. The pools are, as ever, just that... but what feeds them is far more interesting, after all. The Constructicons had split up after the initial presentation, Bonecrusher is bulldozing a few items into the great smelters, as Mixmaster observes, his optical plate gleaming as the work is done, "Ah good...good. Approaching peak heat. We could melt down a Dinobot in this heat." "Sp..spare shanix? F-for the Empire?" Mixmaster turns his head, one of the Empties holds out a skeletized hand towards him, and looks at him with one working optic. "Please, for the Empire? Just a shanix or two?" Miasma's right eye rolls around and swaps to the Green eye. A hissing growl emenates from the Decepticon. Miasma's right eye rolls around and swaps to the Red eye. A piercing shriek fills the air as chemicals hiss into steam. Deathsaurus moves close to the smelting pits which are now located in the middle of... oddly enough a growing entertainment district. (Desc for district) Polyhex has put together a striving entertainment district built to rival those found in other growing cities on Cybertron. A central trade district is set up , selling everything from ener-goodies to decorative items and the occasional illicity weapons and items. To the north is the smelting pits and gladitorial arena. To the east is a mecha soccer arena dn to the west is a popular race track. Deathsaurus looks to the voice. "Oh dear an empty. I'm sorry you hae to see that.' He moves close to the empty, almost afraid to touch the poor wretch begging "Shouldn't you be in the dregs?" he hasnt shown /that/ side of town. Maybe its not on the tour. Banshee looks to Deathsaurus. "You know, you could make use of zem." She comments. "Energon unt housing for vork. There's plenty of simple jobs going around... " Goth can feel himself getting a rust rash immediately as he simply feels the heat of the super heated pools! He's not getting anywhere NEAR them even if it means he's behind the crowed, and flinches at Miasma, his ears folding backward, he doesn't like wher this maybe headed and glances away. Banshee doesn't seem all that bothered by the heat. Mixmaster just hauls off and kicks the Empty, "Don't touch me." He sends the mech sprawling, not really paying attention to the tour. He shakes his head, glaring at the downed Empty, "Stinking nobody." When Deathsaurus comes over to the situation, he's more than willing to ignore the destitute, and mutter something unkind about the pools. Khamsin quirks his brow lightly and watches the exchange, a glance given to Des...then the Empty...and both ears angle forward as he listens to the various remarks, apologies, and other such things made. Deathsaurus nods "Yes, Banshee, but they must know their place. They belong in the dregs, working for the empire. Not out here where outsiders and dignitaries can see them." A large orange tank-con with a bison helmet approaches the group. "Problems?" Deathsaurus nods. "Killbison will you take this poor wretch...home?" the tank-Destron nods. "Yeah, whatever." he reaches out to grab the empty by the neck. "You knew better. Come on. You're on recycling duty." he doesn't head away from the smelter but towarads it. Miasma floats along behind everyone else, distracted by her own cackling. Sometimes her and Mixmaster cackle in the chemical lab to the detriment of every soul on Cybertron. Like forger, like spawn. Khamsin clears his throat lightly as he watches, optics glowing ever so faintly as they very pointedly lock on Des... But, there's nothing said. Judgement, perhaps, but no words...just observing. Steady, unwavering observing. Mixmaster snaps, "Lucky you didn't end up in the smelter!" before returning to a control panel. There's an audible hiss as resmelted durasteel is drawn from the smelter and sent through pipes, displaying the liquid steel. <> Mixmaster says, "Secondary fortification structures beginning initial forging." Banshee shrugs a little and sips from a flask. "Ugh, zo crude." She says. "Dropping somevun into zer smelter wholesale, I mean really all zat's going to get you is crap-quality ore." Miasma raises her head to the flow of liquid metal, as her eye swaps back to purple. Her head slumps down as all of her manic glee fades. Slowly, scraps and rock about her start to levitate around her. The right eye of Miasma rolls back to a magenta color, the femme sags listlessly moments later. Goth places his hand over his face plate and shakes his helm, he.. he was embarrassed to say the least but, Decepticons, what did he expect? He feels ill, maybe because he knows what it's like to be melted alive, but, He just has to keep his own mouth shut, wait, and survive... LEast Banshee is giving reasonable protests that no one would bat an optic at. Deathsaurus looks to Banshee. "Well do you want the empty? Obviously hes too tore upt o be of use. That doesnt happen.. often and when it does. We must show them their place. I'm sure you'd rather see the gladiator pits..right over the smelter. Or the mecha soccer arena? Maybe the racetrack next." Deathsaurus tries to distract everyone from that. "We should move along should we unless theres questions?" Khamsin shakes his head. "No questions..." It's the first thing he's said the whole trip, and he turns to just watch the pits -and activity around them- for a good moment. "So far everything is fairly self explanatory and clear." Deathsaurus pauses. "Then I think you'll be impressed with the mecha soccer arena. Anyone here seen the sport in action?" he asks, leading people towards Soccer is an old cybertronian sport similar to the earth game of soccer. Its played on a large hovering field with stands for the spectators, and tournaments are held monthly to bring in revenue to New Polyhex's development. Deathsaurus pauses. "To the west, we also have a racetrack. Maybe we'll see the likes of stars like Blurr or the Fury corps here one day. We host both aerial and ground based races as well as independant sports. A new establishment in the ancient city of Polyhex, a helix shaped race track dominates the western division of the entertainment district. Both aerial and ground races are held at least monthly, drawing crowds both fro within and outside new Polyhex. he looks up "Above the smelter, you'll notice a classic gladiatorial pit. Who says Kaon gets to have all the fun. Traditional fights for an old versus new crowd. This area has had a long history of impressive fighters including Megatron, Soundwave, Barricade, the Insecticon trio, Lugnut, Hydraw, Draco, Makeshift, Showdown, Hypergear and Groundpounder. The gladiatorial pits of new Polyhex are set up outside a fiery lava plume over the smelting pool, with a half-moon shaped arena known as the Grease Pits. The arena is smaller than the grand arena in Kaon, but the location over the smelting pool provides a sense of danger for both the observers and the fighters as well as a way to dispose of the defeated fighters. Banshee chuckles "Vot kind of racing? Should take a look at a place called Reno, on Earth. Vhile Combra vere running zer USA I vent zere for zer Unlimited Varbird air race. Pylon courses, sehr gut." Deathsaurus takes notes. "Reno. I will have to make a visit. I was basing what I had off of monacus and some of what I saw in Valvolux. I am not as familiar with the races as my staff are. They are in charge of..these sort of thigns. " he says as if he really doesnt udnerstand why these places are important. But important they are. "Unless theres any questions we can continue on to the old sector and launchpad. Other than a few...lower class areas, bars and hospitals and repair shops..I think that'll cover it. Surely you dont want to see those." what about the fortress itself. Darkmount? Oddly..that goes unmentioned as if its not even there. Khamsin gives one parting look to the pools, then follows along in silence as the tour of the revitalized city continues on, pausing to, from time to time, just sort of look at a few of the sights and sounds partly separate from the group following Des... just enough to see things, but not enough to lose track of, or view of, the tour group proper. Goth is silent still, and starts following, keeping a bit more behind, mostly trying not to be seen, as he tries to quite some of the thoughts in his head, trying to figure out why he as panicking so badly, can't show it though he has to keep up the act of seeming like everything is fine... He nods to Khamsin as he passes.. Ears, there to many ears that could hear. Miasma listlessly follows to where the view of the pit is. "Guuhhhhhhhhhnnnmmmm..." She groans silently, a small collection of scrap orbits her in slow, lazy circles as she shows little sign of cognizance. Randomly, as is always, her green eye clicks back over, which drops the orbit of junk about her with a clatter. Her head raises up as she surveys the area, apparently unaware of where she was. All she contributes about the fighting pits was a soft, disapproving 'Mmmh." New Polyhex - Southwestern Cybertron hamsin does return Goth's greeting with a polite nod of his own before moving to keep up with the group proper since, indeed, Des seems to be moving things along through the city itself. Deathsaurus heads towards the old sector. The ruins of the military college are being rebuilt as well, although its not quite ready to open. The old sector has been revitalized as well, the buildings still the gunmetal gray of a military city. "I have kept this sector similiar to how it was originally." He heads towards the hard to miss fortress "The old headquarters will be absorbed into Darkmount itself. He passes by several statues, and buildings with banners. Some of the banners and wall paintings feature prominant Decepticon symbols, and a few still feature Destron symbols. One of the large Destron symbols is being stripped down by some workers, replaced by the Decepticon ones, showing the new order is in place here. Deathsaurus frowns momentarily when he sees that as he continues to show off his city. "This is the hall of silence, where those who serve the em pire are honored beyond death." He motions to a large, rectangular mosoleum. The hall of silence, the New Polyhex mausoleum is the last stop for those who died in service to the Decepticon cause. The building itslef is long, rectangular and gunmetal gray, with two external braisers burning outside a 200 ft tall entrance. A statue of Lord straxus flanks the left of the building and one of Deathsaurus flanks the right, showing New Polyhex's dedication to its past, present and future. Before the mausoleum is a large founted fronted by a 150 ft titanium statue of Lord Megaron, leader of the Decepticons. He pauses to the statue of Lord Megatron as if its looking at him, and gives a hand to chest salute, bowing before it. "May they rest in peace." Another person is outside one of the old buildings. He looks like he's part of the newer group, someone who vowed his service to the Destron empire, not the Decepticon one. The spiked, smaller Destron is spray painting over one of the Decepticon symbols with the words "You have been decieved" under it. The Destron , turning it into a Destron symbol and scratching out everything but DECIEVED. He is out in front of the statues, a bold move when everything has eyes. Soon, small maurauder comes out of an alley, scooping him up and into the shadows before anyone notices. Deathsaurus sees this but does nothing to stop it, other then turning away with a wince, his wings folded against himself. He tries to distract. "Lau...landing. Launch pad is next correct?" he sounds uneasy. Khamsin looks at the statue of Megatron...and just looks. Briefly. No fanfare, no honors, just a look. Then to the spraypainted statement nearby... Whatever his thoughts are on the matter, though, he keeps to himself. Goth too flinches, why is he suddenly hyper aware of everything wrong? Is this what happens when you start to gain a consciousness? Uhhg, he'd wish it shut up and stop making him want to purge at every thought that's coming to his mind about what's going on. He'd fold his wings around himself once more and took a vent, he had to keep going, and walked along. "Yes, I. .believe so." He'd nod, glancing back to the others. Blast Off has arrived. Banshee notices Des' frown and ponders whether she sould design a hybrid of the two logos, like she did for the Luftwaffecons. She watches the spiked one, casually slipping her luger from her holster and preparing to deal with the graffiti maker, when someone else takes care of it. "Hm." She mutters under her breath to Des, leaning in closer. "I am guessing recent messages from higher up haven't... smoothed sings over, hm?. Deathsaurus pauses. "We're recently Decepticon citizens, Banshee. They'll learn." he clenches his fists hard enough that they bleed energon. He wants nothing more than to stop the maurauder. But knows his place. "We all will. Shall we see the launch facility though?" Morality is.....sort of a foreign concept to Miasma. There was work, and then....well there was this morass of things that don't really matter, but will somehow affect her. Rank, civility, personal danger, comraderie, promotion, reprobation, currency, these things were nuisances over all. She was here because.... Miasma paused. Why /was/ she here instead of working on her next chemical product? Her optics flicker to Deathsaurus as he brushes off the faux pas, and wonders. Deathsaurus does start to move on but leaves the grafitti untouched. A large Decepticon symbol has been spraypanted over, turning it into a Destron one. The words "You have been decieved" are under it. all the words are scratched out except for decieved. Khamsin clasps his hands behind his back as he follows along, a passing glance given to the graffiti marks, even going so far as to casually brush a finger through the fresh paint as though just to indeed confirm how freshly laid it was. "Quite the...revival..." He makes the remark casually, not caring who may or may not hear before following where Des leads the group. Banshee walks over to the symbol and, from somewhere, pulls out some spray cans. "Allow me to fix zis..." she says, with a sniff. She gets to work. After a few minutes work, she's got a basic approximation of a hybrid Destron-Decepticon logo. Deathsaurus takes note that too many people have noticed that. "Erm.. you dont have.." no no. He wnts it to stay. He subtly doesnt mind. "Yes." he says sounding flat for a moment. "Please take care of that. We're going to move on to the landing area now...right?" Polyhex Launch Pad - Polyhex - Cybertron "Right.." Goth confirms, his voice not as confident as it should of been.. Keeping an optic on Banshee and Khamsin.. He's sort of grown to like the oddball femme, so he definitely doesn't want to see anything bad happen, was something to focus on other then.. well, what was going on in his head, before following along. Banshee slips her pistol back into its holster quietly, meeting Death's eyes for just a moment and then sipping from her flask. "Reminds me of Berlin, a little." She says. "During zer good days, before... before it all got ugly." This area is a lot more active. The hexagon shaped New Polyhex launch facility is once again a hub of energy and activity. New spacecrat are lined up outside revitalized hangars, ready to aid in the Destron empire's galactic fleet. A lot of resources have been put into the launch facility as of late, matching the Destron focus on galactic conquests, rather than just Cybertronian and Earth based interiors. Deathsaurus wanders among the ships. "This is our launch facility. I hope to fill all of the hangars with ships, each bound to spread the Destron..Dececepticon way through the galaxy. Its my favorite place in the city, personally." he says, giving Banshee a deep nod. Goth gives Banshee a nod as she walks along, and knits his ridges. "Mmmm... Yes.. Well, hopefully all things go well." Goth murmurs. Deathsaurus pauses. "Well..that's it other then a few bars and repair shops. Im sure that you'd rather get to refreshments. I will be enterataining any who wish to stay in the reception hall in Darkmount. But otherwise. I think tht's it. Any questions, observations? Polyhex is a city of open thoughts and ideas." Khamsin looks over the spaceport, and the vessels docked and staged therein before he looks back at the city proper, almost watching the activity going on even if it can't actually be seen, or just running through the overall walk in his mind... "Open thoughts and ideas... I'll remember that." He gives a light nod. "But nothing comes to mind which needs be remarked or asked at the moment." Banshee returns Goth's nod, sipping her flask Goth nods at Khamsin, and glances up at Deathsaurus, and raises a ridge in questioning. Deathsaurus nods "Yes. Well. I suppose I should host who wants to stay. Otherwise, feel free to explore the city. I'd stay on the tour path though. We still have problems." There's a hissing sound from Miasma as the psychosonorum gas vents from her mask. She remains silent, as she tends to do unless it is a tipic of interest.... Banshee blinks at Miasma, then nods Des. Goth takes a vent, and holds out a, slightly, shaking hand to Des. "Do tell, what is.. going on at Darkmount again?" Des said those hanging could go to darkmount right? he couldn't remember, everything is loud in his helm right now. Deathsaurus waits to see who will accompany him to Darkmount before moving on "Thank you for your time. I hope my city serves you well." he says. "I have turned the main atrium into a reception hall for the night. We will have high grade, refreshments and discussions to anyone who wants. Otherwise. ALl are dismissed. Im not one for long blown ceremony." Khamsin seems to take a good moment to just think on the prospect before falling in step to accompany, even if only briefly...he seems to be willing to at least entertain a stop to Darkmount. Though, hearing everyone being 'dismissed' draws a soft, veiled chuckle. Goth nods and steps in line to join to head to Darkmount.. there is a slight smile when he notices Khamsin. Deathsaurus heads back towads Darkmount without another word, his wings still held tight to him. Something disturbed him but he is trying to hide it. Darkmount Deathsaurus heads into the man atrium of Darkmount itself. There are many rooms out to the side, but he seems focused on the 'reception' room, which is just a throne room, repurposed with long tables fiilled with the finest energon. Tonight's musical selection is a classic. The empyrian suite. Deathsaurus frowns a bit at hte music choice. Not his favorite, but it sounds classical. He moves to take a seat at the center of the table. "Um.." He looks around at hte finery. He doesn't seem like hes sure where to sit or what that purple glowing flower with energon in it is. What is that thing. A utensil? Food? Hes not touching it. Nope. "Just um. Sit wherever. Its um. Just a casual meeting. You can um. Talk about anything I guess." Banshee chuckles, softly. "I remember visiting Megatron here, vunce or twice. He vos... not comfortable in zer Galvatron-inspired architecture." Khamsin follows the invitation and, without much ceremony, strides into Darkmount following Des, a careful glance given tot he various rules... "You're new to this...it shows." He chuckles softly and studies the livery decorating the fortress. "I don't believe I ever had a fond memory of Darkmount..." The unicronian decor has chanaged totally. The atrium is grand with a vaulted ceiling, and several viewscreens abotu the throen room as if it serves as a communications hub as well. Everything in here seems military, spartan and very well organized. Deathsaurus nods to Khamsin. "Well I have been governor for 6 months now. Before that I was the emperor and captain of a pirating fortress. Things...work differently in the cities of old than they do here. I truely want this place to be a eutopia and hte older citizens say a senate should be formed for that to work properly." Lugnut is in the process of putting up new Decepticon banners, of his own volition, which means that there's literally sixty mech-high banners on display in a row on stands, that all display the Decepticon symbol. His big red optic shines across from one to the next. To nobody in particular, he announces, "THIS ONE IS CROOKED." He reaches over to adjust one, his hulking frame not built for such delicacy, so the entire line of them fall over like dominos. Lugnut raises his head "NOW THEY ARE ALL CROOKED." Banshee looks up and listens to the music. She tilts her head and then smiles. "Ah, zere. I thought it vos hers." She comments, clearing her throat and, somewhat hesitantly at first, starting to sing along. It takes her a little bit to get going but before long she's shifted all the way up through the gears and she's... singing a triplet with the music, all on her own. Goth see's Lugnuts work and.. slaps a hand over his optics and snout in a open and aduial face-palming and shakes his helmeeeee. "Lugnut.. why.." He asks simply and exhaustedly. His ear twitches as he catches Des and Khamsin's conversation, and then Banshee's singing, that might actually of been the first time he heard her sing... And it causes him to listen with interest. Khamsin nods. "I agree... checks and balances are needed to ensure that no /one/ authority gains too much power." He looks over towards Banshee, just listening for a moment before he carries on the conversation. "And above all...any authority must ensure that the people are served, not ruled. Though, that capability comes with time and practice." He looks at Lugnut, brow quirking slightly at the toppling of the bannerline... "Hmm...well, that's certainly prophetic..." Banshee somehow manages to talk and sing at the same time. All of the cogs in her neck are in motion, at different speeds and directions. "I sink a good Fuhrer does both." She comments. Lugnut raises his massive frame and turns, regarding Deathsaurus. He sets his jaw, as he plants one of the banners up as if it were a standard. "BECAUSE POLYHEX IS UNDER RULE OF THE DECEPTICONS, AND SINCE THAT FAITHFUL DAY IN WHICH YOU WERE CAST LOW BY MIGHTY MEGATRON, GLORY TO HIS NAME, YOU HAVE REJOINED THE DECEPTICON CAUSE FROM YOUR FORMER....WELL, IT WASN'T AN EMPIRE, THE DESTRONS SEEMED TO BE MORE OF A FEUDAL MONARCHY, BUT THEY ARE NO MORE, THANKS TO THE WISDOM OF MEGATRON." He sets down another banner firmly, a little too firmly, the stand breaks beneath his grip, and refuses to stay upright. Unperturbed, Lugnut sort of drapes the banner over his arm. Banshee adds "He controls policy, direction, military tactics... but takes direction from das volk." Deathsaurus nods "Maybe they're right, who knows." he syas. He pauses to listen to Banshee sing and tenses visibly at Lugnut. "Just leave the banners fall. If they do, I'll put them up later." he snarls, his optics glowing red for a moment. "The Destrons still exist. They are just..Decepticons now. And Lord Megatron got lucky. Pardon me a moment. Please continue to celebrate." he stalks towards one of the doors, his body tense. He opens it and closes it quietly. On the other side of the door is the sound of something large and metal being thrown. Some animalistic growls... Khamsin looks at Banshee and gives a nod. "Balance in all things, not overbearing..." He then looks towards Lugnut. "All empires eventually fall and are replaced." He looks towards where Des disappears to and just...listens for a bit. "I should see myself out. I believe...future visits are in order, but...this one is drawing to a close." Goth clicks his jaw as he listens to Lugnut and... Makes an effort to start moving everyone away from Lugnut's range... He'd flinch at the crashing and sighed shaking his helm, before glancing back. "Color me impressed Banshee, do sound masterful." He'd smile, before hearing KHam.. Yeah best he go before Lugnut.. Lugnuts.. "Ah, I see Khamsin, would you need help finding your way out?" Lugnut clamps his claws as Deathsaurus leaves. The room shakes with Des' rampage of frustration. Lugnut's eye refreshes as he just stands there, a particularly large shudder knocks over another banner. Finally, Lugnut speaks, "I BELIEVE HE IS LESS THAN HAPPY THAT HE HAD BEEN BROUGHT UNDER THE HEEL OF MIGHT MEGATRON, GLORY TO LORD MEGATRON'S NAME.XN" Banshee smiles a little and, as this part of the Suite draws to a close, shifts back down through the gears (almost literally; as each of the singing voices fades away, a cog on her neck spools down to a halt with a mechanical whine. She coughs again. "I am not as good as zer singer ve are listening to." She says, indicating the speakers. "Maestro Secundus Imager. While I do not believe she can do zer multiple voices at zer same time like I can, although I vould not be surprised, she has much greater range and fidelity zan me. And a wider grasp of playing instruments. I am but a gifted amateur, in comparison, but bitte. I am glad you enjoyed." She gives a little half-bow, seemingly embarrassed at having dared sing along with even a recording of the Maestro Secundus. Khamsin again just sort of...blinks at Lugnut, and then slowly shakes his head. "I could use a guide, yes," he eventually offers to Goth. Though, there is a parting nod. "And, thank you for the performance, Banshee...it was masterful. You've my admiration in that regard." And, with that, he's turning on his heel to make his way out of the fortress proper. Deathsaurus comes back after a few minutes his face expressionless. He gives a thin-lipped smiles "No, Lugnut. I am thrilled to serve in my position at Emperor Megatron's side. I am....absolutely thrilled to no longer be Emperor of my people and serve in my rightful place in a city that Shockwave can reclaim at an y time, especially after I spent all this time to turn it into a paradise. Absolutely. Delighted." he moves to sit back down, grabbing an engex from the table and slams it back before refocusing. "Now. Where were we?" Lugnut refreshes his eye again blinking. He processes for moment after moment as Deathsaurus takes a drink. "I HAVE MISJUDGED YOU THEN, SERVANT OF THE EMPIRE. THEN LET US RALLY TOGETHER AND CRUSH THE AUTOBOTS UNDER OUR COLLECTIVE FIREPOWER....AND DO SO SOON BEFORE THESE 'PEACE' NEGOTIATIONS GO ANY FURTHER." Deathsaurus sees a chance and looks to Lugnut. "No. Lord Megatron plaed me in charge of negotiagions and that I will. Calmly. Do not disrespect any of my guests in my fortress. Do I make myself clear?" "Having a good teacher and practice does help foster ones talents, I do say keep practicing and trying. Shall get where you wish to be ma'dam, I have natural talent for sound and song myself but it is ah.. nothing for public ears, I could only praise your confidence to show such." He'd say with a light bow and chuckle to Banshee as he went to join up with Khamsin only to stop, his optics narrowing, he doesn't turn yet, but he glances to Khamsin... his own index claw extended and quite ready to do something if Des doesn't. Khamsin pauses mid-stride and looks back at Lugnut. "You cannot stop Cybertron's will to evolve, Lugnut... dedication like yours would be welcome to the cause of unification, undoubtedly...but as I said, Empires all fall in due time. Those who do not learn how to adapt and move with the will of the people wind up footnotes in the history books." He smiles thinly, looking at Des. "It's quite alright, Deathsaurus... I don't scare easy." He nods around. "Now then...if you'll excuse me." Banshee looks to Lugnut, then at Des. Then she sips a drink, smiling to the departing Khamsin, before her attention returns to Goth. "I vould like to hear vun day. I vill not judge... I am not zer best teacher - too strict, you know? - but I vill help however I can." Deathsaurus rubs his temples looking exhausted> he lost a troop loyal to his cause today and did nothing to save him. Its starting to wear on him. He murmurs. "I'll be.. in my office if anyone needs me. My animaforce will be around to entertain those who wish to stay. Weird that hes leaving in the middle of a meeting. Lugnut growls at Deathsaurus' orders, but soon Khamsin distracts him enough to draw his red gaze. He says aside to Deathsaurus without his gaze leaving Khamsin, "IS THIS A GUEST, GOVENOR DEATHSAURUS, OR MIGHT I RIP HIM INTO PIECES?Lugnutx" A massive claw point pokes forward towards Khamsin, "THERE ARE TWO THINGS I AM CERTAIN OF. THE DECEPTICON EMPIRE WILL BE VICTORIOUS IN THIS WAR, AND THAT MEGATRON SHALL LEAD THE DECEPTICONS." The glare of his eye intensifies, "AND I AM WILLING TO MAKE YOU A FOOTNOTE IN THE EMPIRE'S HISTORY RIGHT. NOW.XN" He shifts forward, ready to just outright assault Khamsin. >> Deathsaurus succeeds with his generic combat roll on Lugnut. << Deathsaurus stops dead in his tracks. His hand moves out lightening speed for Lugnut's throat, bringing him up to meet the warlord's fiercely glowing optics. "If anyone is dishonored who I brought with me. I will take every injury out of your pathetic hide. Do I make myself clear, Decepticon?!" he snarls. Banshee steps between Lugnut and Khamsin. "You vould disobey Megatron, Lugnut?" She says, sharply. "An order, in zis context, from Deathsaurus, is an order from Megatron. You vill stand down unt apologise, soldat. SCHNELL!" Lugnut plants his claws on Deathsaurus' arm as he is lifted, and slowly, with the rending of metal, frees himself from the grasp. He holds himself there, locked in a contest of might with Deathsaurus. One hand breaks free, and the claws on his hands bend back, exposing the megabomb housing in his fist. The bomb glows ominously as Lugnut considers using the PUNCH OF KILL EVERYTHING, right here and now"IS HE...A GUEST, OR NOT, GOVENOR?" Banshee looks over her shoulder, and then over at Lugnut. "Are you... of course he's a guest..." Banshee adds "If he vasn't he'd be dead." A glance at Khamsin "No offence." Deathsaurus tries to force his hand, but Lugnut's a strong one. He tires to force Lugnut to his knees in front of an audience. "Anyone at my table. Anyone who follows me into the base. Is my guest. When you are in my fortress, my Darkmount. I . Am. Your. Emperor. Do I make myself clear, Lugnut?!" GAME: Goth FAILS an INTELLIGENCE roll of Extreme difficulty. All The fast movement the yelling, Goth was already having a panic attack, this has only accelerated it, Goth's optics go from a bright necromantic green to a dark red like the rest of his bio-lights, and he takes a /very/ defenses stance on all fours in front of of Khamsin, bearing his fangs, and his fur standing on end, he hasn't even yet realized just what has happened, other then he's now ready to go for the throat on the first person who approaches with hostile intent. Khamsin looks back at Lugnut, then Banshee, and just gives a light shrug. "It is about what I expected, unfotunately." He frowns a bit. "Please, Governor, Goth...it's quite alright. The old paradimes and behaviors take time to shake...as before, I'll just take my leave. This seems to be an...internal dispute." It takes several seconds, as Deathsaurus applies pressure to Lugnut, but slowly Lugnut adjusts his footing, and he is literally forced down to kneel. He growls as he is pushed to a submission, his eye flares in contempt, "I...UNDERSTAND. YOUR INTERPRETATION OF GUESTS ALSO INCLUDES AUTOBOT ASSASSINS, BUT...." His eye drifts right, towards Banshee, who had given him pause. "IF THIS IS THE WILL OF MEGATRON." His hands finally stop attempting to force Deathsaurus back. He was probably going to get thrown or slashed one, but that was normal. Deathsaurus shakes his head. "No no this is uncalled for. He disrespected my guest in my reception hall." he snarls looking at Lugnut. "It is. More importanntly it is /my/ will." he lets Lugnut stand. "Get out of my sight." Banshee looks to Lugnut. "He is vot he is. Ve know more about him zan ve did before he got here. Not every battle is won by sheer brute force..." A sigh. "Vere it so easy." Goth snarls something in.. Eukarian? Probably, that or he was just snarling, one moving back to face kham the other facing Lugnut and crew, before walking carefully to keep himself facing the group for attack as he joined Khamsin's side to act as a guard on the way out. Banshee blinks at Goth and watches him, tilting her head curiously. "Goth. Breath. Slowly." Lugnut stands back up onto his feet, and turns. He says aside to Banshee, "IF BRUTE FORCE ISN'T WORKING....YOU AREN'T USING ENOUGH." He pointedly avoides accidentally bumping into Banshee as he exits the room, to find his own table flipping room. Deathsaurus watches Lugnut leave and looks to Khamsin and Goth. "Go if you want." He holds his temple. "Primus." he turns and heads for that closet quietly waving a dismissive hand "Banshee you are welcome to come and go as you please." GAME: Goth PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Immense difficulty. Goth's optic start to calm down from their red, and back to their familiar green, now that the danger has passed, but oh that did a number on his recovering frame! There's a loud whine from a number of his fans, a few red sparks and electricity dances over his frame and joints. He says something again, no that is /definitely/ Eukarian he's speaking, his voice is shakey too, whatever just happened had him pushing everything at Max. He'd chuf out and cleared his voice box a few times. "Ahem.. Pardon my outburst.." he says simply, not often he has to go full Monster-bot on someone, but they didn't need to know that. "We should be.. going. I shall... ensure.. your parting is a safe one." He says his voice very /straight/ and stern now, he doesn't move from all fours though. Banshee sights softly, pinching her nose. "Mein gott no vunder Adolph vent insane if zis is vot he had to deal bith..." Rodion - Western Equatorial Cybertron Goth mutters as he walks on all fours along side KHam, he's exhausted now, a few of those sparks still sputtering but their starting to calm down. "Well.. That could of gone worse." He'd chuffm trying to get his voice even once more, having calmed some in their walk over to Rodion... He's been muttering in Eukarian form time to time. Khamsin was, for the most of the walk at least, fairly quiet, deep in thought, and otherwise just being mindful of things until the Polyhex territory was well out of view... "It could have, yes...though it could also have gone better." He frowns lightly, ears pinning back. "Not only does it seem the regard for neutral affiliated mechs is...low, but certainly there is no effort to be /for/ anyone save those loyal to the Cause... That city is precisely what needs to be...avoided at all costs as it currently stands." "Agreed." Goth sighs. "I did not know of some of... /that/ going on." He'd knit his ridges muttering. "...Normally I'd not be phased by things like that, given some of the things I did in the past but oddly during all of that, it.. seemed to strike more then a few nerves I did not know I had.. regained." Goth would shake his helm and glanced up at Khamsin Khamsin nods lightly as he considers... "I suppose...at one point I'd have agreed." He sighs. "Things change..." He exhales and closes his eyes, just sort of letting himself decompress a bit. "It does make it seem less likely that the full unification of Cybertron is not...going to happen... however," he considers a bit, "it opens...doors. Backup plans..." He considers his thoughts for a moment. "Nothing that can be done immediately..." There's a shake of his head before he looks back at Goth. "Are...you alright, though?" Goth was silent as he listened to Kham, thinking as well before.. well the attention turned on him. "I.. do not know.." he says honestly, and exhaustedly. "I... It's been sometime since I've felt build up of.. Anxiety, like this, it started around the smelting pits and just grew and grew as we went, when Lugnut went to lunge I think was.. when I couldn't really contain it anymore, I think I.. May have over exerted myself in the processes." Khamsin nods. "I...saw. I tried not to react..." He sighs. "Lugnut would not have gotten too far in his efforts, though. I'm fairly certain Des would have intervened." He glances down at the ground for a moment before moving to look the other mech over. "Let me have a look... You really shouldn't push yourself that hard... especially not when you're in the middle of getting everything fixed up. It's not healthy...and I'd really rather you not get...set back on my behalf." One they come to a stop Goth would sit down to allow Kham to look him over, he definitely overloaded a number of his systems during all of that, but it was nothing dangerous at the moment, but it was enough to leave him out of fuel. He'd grunt and knit his ridges. "Apologies, that was.. I didn't.. know, what was going on until it had happened." He'd nod, as if those were the words he was looking for. "...Been sometime since I've been that riled up, i will admit... Think the last time something like that happened Phantom had been saying some rather.. /detailed/ things." he'd chuckle. Khamsin nods. "I...indeed. I can't seem to recall any moment when you were like that before..." He lets out a slow exhale and seems satisfied nothing is wrong for the most part. "You need a good recharge..." He takes a seat next to the other mech, exhaling softly. "Hmph...maybe, in this world of self-proclaimed governers and annointed city leaders...I should start not with attempting to appease the factions but rather by starting a haven..." He leans in slightly... "What would you do, hmm?" "I've had a few minor episodes where I was vaguely aware of what was going on, mostly contained to the training simulators, after the simulated damage would lift.." He'd muse, thinking back, he'd lean against Khamsin, closing his optics, having caught that pause between Khams words, and opened an optic. "...That.. would be an idea, perhaps... It would be work and of course Megatron would attempt to destroy such." He'd muse trying not to fall asleep, a light purr escaping him. "Where though?" Khamsin shrugs. "Haven't thought that far ahead... I'm sure it'll come to me. Altihex comes to mind, but that may be too...high profile yet. Megatron would just raze it..." He rests against Goth casually. "But it would be a start...once which the apparent leadership on all sides of these factional disputes are hesitant to undertake..." He closes his eyes and rests a bit. "Hmph...hopefully...no one thinks too much about how things went back there... I'd hate to think that your cover is blown. Goth takes a vent. "I don't think Lugnut is smart enough to figure it out, Banshee.. Hmm I don't know." He'd rest there, shifting to placing his helm on the others shoulder. "I'd give it a few days, or so, let everything cool, and return to speak with them, see what they've thought about it." He'd yawn. "...For now, that.. all does sound nice.. as does a nap.." he'd smile at Khamsin. "Want to make our way back to the desert, or perhaps a night here would be in order?" Khamsin looks around... "It's not too far to the hideaway..." He pushes himself up. "Come on, then...on your feet. We'll get there...and then you can rest proper without the risk of prying eyes, yes?" He smiles and ruffles the bat's head, right between the ears. "I think I could use a good rest as well..." Goth nods pushing himself up to his hind legs and glances around for the moment, knowing no one around that knew them was there, he'd plant a quick kiss on Khamsin's cheek before dropping too all fours and chuckles as his helm mane is ruffled. "Yes... That.. sounds /very/ nice right now." He'd huff. Category:2020 Category:Logs